


Cheek To Cheek

by sandwastesinthevoidofmychest



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, I'm Sorry, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mycroft Plays the Piano, Not Beta Read, Smut, Topping from the Bottom, blushing Mycroft, greg is in love, i could write these two falling in love for the rest of my life, they bond discussing music it's cute okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 16:25:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandwastesinthevoidofmychest/pseuds/sandwastesinthevoidofmychest
Summary: Somewhere along the way, Greg and Mycroft's conversations stopped being about Sherlock and started being about their interests.After dancing around each other, they end up on a date.





	Cheek To Cheek

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong version of 'Cheek to Cheek', listen [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GeisCvjwBMo).  
> Enjoy.

Greg followed Mycroft out of the restaurant and wondered how they had gotten here. To _this._

It had started out with bi-monthly meetings in one of their offices; never planned.  
Greg was either politely told to get into a black car out of the blue, or otherwise he would come to work only to find Mycroft Holmes seated behind his desk.

Somewhere along the way, there had been emails that soon became daily, then more frequent and random meetings. They seemed to dance around each other.  
If Mycroft contacted Greg, he was almost afraid to admit that he’d drop whatever he was doing in order to either reply or go to wherever he was wanted.  
Greg had also been pleasantly surprised to realise that Mycroft would also appear as a result of a rare request for assistance, every time. 

Greg noticed that their conversations which used to be solely about Sherlock, had become about anything but Sherlock. Libraries, favourite books, movies, foods, and music.  
They talked about music a lot.  

They both adored music, but each had their own preferences.  
This was surprisingly refreshing. They debated and they started sending each other links to certain songs over email. The daily emails had soon become a discussion forum about different genres and memories associated with them.

 

* * *

 

Greg was taken aback one day, he had walked into his office at five in the morning, and Mycroft was sitting behind his desk, an amused smile across his face.He even chuckled when he noticed Greg’s initial confusion and shock, and by god did Greg catalogue that precious sound. 

While they had been talking daily via email, they hadn’t seen each other in person in three weeks. Mycroft had been away and Greg had been incredibly busy. The emails seemed to have become their only moments of respite. 

Mycroft sat forward, elbows on Greg’s desk and his eyes shining with amusement and Greg had to remind himself to breathe.  
“Good morning, Gregory.” Mycroft’s smooth voice made goosebumps rise on Greg’s arms as he was frozen with his back against the door.  
“I have a gift for you.” Mycroft murmured, sliding a small, flat square across Greg’s (thankfully) neat desk.  
Greg hesitated, part of him wanted to lock the door behind him, drop his briefcase, take the few determined strides it would take him to pull Mycroft up against him, to kiss him.  
Instead, he moved forward, making eye-contact with the other man all the while, Mycroft could probably hear his bloody heart beat out of his chest. 

Mycroft Holmes looking irresistible at five in the morning, sitting smugly behind Greg’s desk, after Greg sleeping a mere three hours was not something Greg had been prepared for. It was still dark outside, a blustery winter day, but he knew at that moment that something had shifted between them. 

Greg took the gift off the desk, it was thin and expertly wrapped. Greg raised an eyebrow at Mycroft, who stared up at him warmly. Greg felt his chest tighten, then carefully unwrapped the gift, feeling Mycroft’s gaze on him.  
It was a plain see-through case with a blank CD, “Gregory” written in cursive by a marker.  
Greg was silent for a few seconds, the cogs in his brain moving. “Is this…a mixtape?” He whispered.  
“It is indeed.” Greg didn’t see Mycroft stand up, but all of a sudden Mycroft’s warm hand was on Greg’s wrist and Greg looked across at Mycroft, a question in his eyes.  
“I wanted to see you.” Mycroft said casually, “But this is a more immersive experience than a link to youtube. Listen to it in full, alone. Then let me know what you think.” Mycroft squeezed Greg’s wrist before stepping back, moving around Greg, towards the coat hanger by the door to put on his coat.  
Greg still felt dazed, and watched Mycroft pull on his gloves.  
“Mycroft.“ Greg moved, “Wait.”

Mycroft glanced up at Greg, who unceremoniously pushed him up against the door, having left the CD on the desk.  
Greg could feel Mycroft’s warm breath against his face, and Greg stared at him, his own breath coming hard and fast.  
“You-“ Greg paused, trying to find the right words, his hands resting on the silent Mycroft’s shoulders. But Greg licked his lips and then kissed  Mycroft instead of struggling to verbally express what it was that he wanted to say.  
He pulled away from Mycroft, realising what he had just done. Mycroft must have seen the panic in his eyes, because a second later Mycroft’s hands were in Greg’s hair, pulling him back against his lips and into a deep kiss. 

The phone on Greg’s desk ringing was the only reason that they parted. Greg stumbled over to the desk and breathlessly answered the call, all the while seeing Mycroft throw him a smirk from the corner off his eye.  
“I’ve got to get to a crime scene right now.” The disappointment was clear in his voice, and was taken aback when Mycroft chuckled.  
“Well this has certainly been interesting, Gregory. I’m glad that I came by.”  
“At five in the morning, sure.” Greg murmured, blushing.  
Mycroft took a step towards him and Greg found that he was holding his breath. Mycroft’s answering smile was glorious, open mouthed and shining eyes and Greg was certain that his heart had skipped a couple of beats.  
“I’ll see you soon, Gregory. Enjoy the music.” And then Mycroft Holmes _winked_ at him and Greg was reaching out again before Mycroft turned to leave. 

Greg grasped Mycroft’s forearm, and Mycroft raised an eyebrow.   
“A date.” Greg stammered, “You and I.”   
Mycroft was watching Greg with amusement, “Was that an order?”   
Greg threw him a half-hearted glare and Mycroft was suddenly only centimetres from Greg’s lips.   
“I’ll call you and we can see when we’re free. Goodbye, Gregory.”   
Throwing any inhibitions that he may have had out the window, Greg leaned in for one last kiss before Mycroft turned and left.  
Greg followed out soon after, getting his team into position.

 

* * *

 

Here they were, outside the restaurant.  
Greg hesitated, turning around to face Mycroft, wanting to reach out and kiss the other man. He didn’t want to go home alone tonight.   
Maybe it was the wine, but that realisation made him notice that there was a warmth flowing through his veins and all he wanted was Mycroft. 

Mycroft seemed to be watching him, a small smile on his face.   
“I was wondering if you’d like to come back to mine for a nightcap?” Mycroft’s voice was soft, almost vulnerable and Greg closed the distance between them, pulling Mycroft against him by his tie.  
“Sounds like a wonderful idea.” He whispered against Mycroft’s lips, before kissing him softly, pulling away after a few seconds aware of people passing by.   
“I’ll hail a cab.” Greg noticed that Mycroft’s voice had a husky edge to it as he walked away from Greg, Greg felt a flush of heat flow through him as his eyes followed Mycroft’s figure.

 A cab pulled up almost immediately and Mycroft opened the door for Greg. Mycroft slid into the backseat beside him, reciting his address for the driver.  
The space between them seemed like a mile to Greg, and he bit his lip before sliding his hand across the seat, resting his hand on top of Mycroft’s.   
In response, Mycroft intertwined their fingers, a smile breaking across his face.   
It was electrifying, Greg could feel Mycroft’s warmth rush through his veins.  

“Mycroft?”   
“Hm?”   
“On that CD, there was a piano piece that wasn’t listed on the track list you had written, what was it?”  
Mycroft tilted his head, a small blush spreading across his cheeks, visible to Greg under the passing street lamps.   
“That composition was close to my heart.”  
Greg squeezed Mycroft’s hand, “It was beautiful. I’d like to hear their other pieces, do you have any of their other albums?”  
Mycroft shook his head, “Afraid not.”  
“Pity, there was so much emotion in it.” Greg realised that Mycroft was staring at him strangely. “Myc? Everything alright?”  
Mycroft shifted in his seat, glancing out the window. “What would you say if I told you the name of that song was ‘ _Gregory_ ’?”

Something clicked in Greg’s brain, and he looked over at Mycroft, mouth slightly ajar. “You?”   
Mycroft didn’t get a chance to reply as the cab came to a stop and the driver cleared his throat before announcing they were outside Mycroft’s house.  
Greg got out of the car and went to stand by Mycroft as he paid the driver. He looked behind them and all he could see was a paved driveway shaded by numerous trees. Mycroft’s house was hidden among them. 

Greg was swiftly brought back to the present when Mycroft rested his hand on the base of Greg’s spine, reigniting the earlier fire in Greg’s body.   
“Welcome to my home, Gregory.” Mycroft murmured, as he led Greg down the driveway.  
Once they stepped inside the gates, a security light came on, and Greg was surprised to see a cottage-like two-storey house in front of them. The facade was covered in thick green ivy, and the windows were latticed and painted white. It looked so solitary and inviting that it was hard to remember that they were still in central London, yet this was reminiscent of the English countryside. 

“It’s gorgeous.” Greg said in awe. “It seems so peaceful.”  
Greg frowned at the new absence of Mycroft’s hand on him, while the other man moved to unlock the door.   
“It’s wonderful to escape to, I’ll admit that much.” Mycroft gestured for Greg to walk through the threshold. “Let me take your coat.”  
Mycroft helped Greg out of his coat, hanging it beside the door, before placing his own beside it. 

“Just go into the sitting room.” Mycroft guided Greg to the first door on the left, then touched his arm gently, “What would you like to drink?”  
“Whatever you’re having.” Greg leant into Mycroft’s touch.   
“More wine?”   
“Sure.” Greg shrugged, relishing Mycroft’s smile.  
“Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right back.” 

Greg walked into the sitting room and was surprised by how cozy it looked. Along one of the walls was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, then there was a fireplace with logs ready to be lit, and in the corner there was what looked like a very vintage vinyl player with an assortment of vinyls stacked on the shelf beside it. But what took up most of the room was the grand piano, sat proudly beside the window. Greg walked over towards it, admiring it.  
The fallboard was up, keys exposed, and he noticed that on the music rack there were sheets of music. Greg leaned in closer, realising that the music was handwritten. He felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw ‘ _Gregory_ ’ written at the top of the first sheet of manuscript paper in Mycroft’s familiar cursive. 

Greg could read music, although it took him longer than he would have liked to recall the key it was in. He had played the guitar in his youth, but unfortunately hadn’t looked at a manuscript in a long time. He gingerly hummed along under his breath, his eyes following the notes.  
This was it; this was the tune that he had loved on the CD, the one he had listened to numerous times. 

“Here-“ Mycroft’s voice startled Greg, and he turned on his heels to face a blushing Mycroft, who was standing in the doorframe with two glasses of wine. “Ah, you found it.”  
Greg glanced over his shoulder at the piano for a second, before turning and grinning at Mycroft. “You…composed this for _me_?” The disbelief was apparent in his tone.  
Mycroft’s blush deepened, if that was even possible. “Of course.” He glanced down at the glasses of wine in his hands, hiding his eyes from Greg. “I’m honoured that you liked it.”  
Greg crossed the few steps that were between them in a second and placed his hand gently on Mycroft’s warm cheek.  
“Thankyou.” He whispered, “It’s breathtaking.”  
Mycroft’s shy smile made Greg’s heart feel so full, as though it was fit to burst out of his chest. Greg couldn’t help the grin he gave in return, he felt _so_ damn happy. 

He wantedto lean in and kiss Mycroft, but decided that Mycroft would probably object to the carpet being covered in red wine. So instead, Greg took one of the glasses from Mycroft, bringing Mycroft’s now empty hand to his lips and kissing it.  
When Greg let Mycroft’s hand go, he looked across at the other man whose cheeks were still red.Mycroft glanced down at the glasses in their hands, before raising his in a toast.  
“To us.” Mycroft whispered the words, as though afraid he was being too hopeful and Greg tried to reassure him by smiling widely across at Mycroft.   
“To us.” He grinned as he clinked their glasses together.  

They had moved over to the sofa, and sat beside each other, sipping wine and Greg listened to Mycroft talk about playing the piano, and Greg’s free hand was warm high on Mycroft’s thigh as he leaned in to the other man.   
In a brief lull of comfortable silence and warmth, Greg nodded towards the vinyl player in the corner, “Does it still work?” He asked out of curiosity.   
“Perfectly, would you like to put something on?”   
“May I?” The obvious excitement in Greg’s voice made Mycroft chuckle.   
“Of course.”  
Greg drank the last sip of wine left in his glass, placing the glass on the floor beside the sofa and gave Mycroft a quick peck on the cheek before standing up.

Greg noticed that there was already a vinyl sitting on the player and he leaned in a little to read the artist. “Ella and Louis?” Greg glanced over his shoulder at Mycroft, who was watching him intently. Mycroft just hummed in affirmation, taking another sip of wine.  
“Gorgeous.” Greg murmured, turning the machine on, carefully bringing the needle to the beginning of the record as it started to spin.   
The first notes of the saxophone in ‘ _Summertime_ ’ filled the room, and Greg turned back towards Mycroft, who had put his empty glass on the table beside the sofa.  
Mycroft was watching Greg with interest, unsure what was going to come next.   
Greg beamed at Mycroft as he sat down beside Mycroft again, no space between them.   
Greg noticed Mycroft take a deep breath, and he leaned in to Mycroft’s ear, “Can I kiss you?” Greg’s voice was soft, and Mycroft could feel Greg’s warm breath against the side of his face, another blush creeping onto his cheeks.  
“Please do.” He said breathlessly, leaning in to meet Greg’s lips. 

Greg had divested Mycroft of his jacket and waistcoat, and was intently exploring Mycroft’s neck with his lips as the start of another song marked the passing of time. Mycroft’s hands had made their way underneath the fabric of Greg’s shirt, feeling the warmth of Greg’s skin beneath his fingertips. Greg’s fingers deftly started to unbutton Mycroft’s shirt, and Mycroft let out a moan when Greg sucked at the bare skin below his collarbone.  
Greg paused for a second, raising his head to make eye-contact with Mycroft. Mycroft only nodded in encouragement, and threw Greg a confused glance when Greg didn’t return back to his previous spot. 

“Gregory?”   
“This is one of my favourite songs.” Greg murmured, a fond smile on his face as the lyrics washed over them. He stood up slowly, and held his hand out to Mycroft, “C’mere.”  
Mycroft hesitated, confused and aroused, he managed to find his feet, and Greg pulled him into his arms. Greg’s hands rested on the small of Mycroft’s back, while Mycroft uncertainly rested his arms on Greg’s biceps.   
“Dance with me.” Greg’s voice was husky and Mycroft followed Greg’s lead, slowly moving against each other.   
Greg’s lips were against Mycroft’s ear, and Greg felt Mycroft shiver when he started singing along to the song, voice low and their bodies pressed together.  
_“I'm in heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak, and I seem to find that happiness I seek when we’re out togeth-“  
_ Mycroft took Greg’s breath away, cutting off the words coming out of Greg’s mouth by kissing him deeply. 

Greg whimpered when Mycroft stopped kissing him, their foreheads against each other.   
Mycroft couldn’t help but chuckle at Greg’s reaction. During their kiss, Greg’s hands had moved to cup Mycroft’s arse, while Mycroft tugged on Greg’s short hair.   
Mycroft took a deep breath, cupping Greg’s face, “Would you like to go upstairs?”  
Greg could only nod, heart hammering in his chest. Mycroft threw him a reassuring smile, before taking him by the hand and leading them both towards the stairs. 

They stumbled into Mycroft’s immaculate room, and Mycroft pulled Greg into another hungry kiss, his hands finding Greg’s warm skin beneath his shirt once again.   
Greg managed to unbutton the rest of Mycroft’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders without breaking the kiss, trailing his fingers up Mycroft’s back, blunt nails against skin.   
“Gregory,” Mycroft breathed, trailing kisses down from Greg’s lips to his neck, while he unbuttoned Greg’s shirt.   
“Hm?”   
“Bed?” Mycroft moved to face Greg, watching him carefully, a deep blush across his face.   
Greg nodded wordlessly, he knew Mycroft could feel his erection against his thigh, just like he could with Mycroft’s, and it made his blood sing.   
“I-I just haven’t been with anyone in a while.” Greg confided, and was pleasantly surprised to feel Mycroft’s warm hand caress his cheek, eyes soft on his.  
“We’ll only do what you’re comfortable with.” Mycroft’s voice was gentle, and he leaned in again to press a short kiss to Greg’s lips. “What do you want?”  
“You.” Greg breathed.   
Mycroft chuckled, “Then have me.” He took Greg’s hand and led him over to the bed. At the edge of the bed, Mycroft pulled Greg into another kiss, his hands trailing down Greg’s body, resting on Greg’s belt, Mycroft moved back to check Greg was alright, and when Greg nodded Mycroft wasted no time in unbuckling the belt and ridding Greg of his trousers and boxers.  “Gregory.” Mycroft whispered, “You’re a piece of art.”   
Greg’s laughter startled the both of them, diffusing the nervous tension in the room, and Mycroft couldn’t help but join in on the laughter.  
“C’mere, you poet.” Greg pulled Mycroft up against him, laughter still in his voice, Mycroft’s trousers the only barrier between them. “I need to get you out of those.” 

As soon as Mycroft had gotten rid of his clothes, Greg pushed him onto his back on the bed. He straddled Mycroft’s thighs, and leaned over him. They both let out involuntary moans when their cocks brushed against each other. Greg caught Mycroft’s bottom lip between his teeth, before their tongues met, drawing them into a deep kiss, full of hunger.   
Greg’s cock was heavy and hard, wanting. He moved his hips, grinding up against Mycroft’s cock, causing them both to whimper.  
“Top drawer, bedside table.” Mycroft breathed when they paused for breath and Greg hummed in acknowledgement, kissing Mycroft again before moving to get the bottle of lube and the condom. He dropped them on the bed beside them and raised an eyebrow at Mycroft, who only nodded in encouragement. 

Greg leaned over Mycroft again, kissing down Mycroft’s jaw and neck. While he was kissing down Mycroft’s body, he trailed a hand down Mycroft’s torso until he took hold of Mycroft’s cock, smirking when he heard Mycroft moan his name.   
Greg knelt between Mycroft’s thighs and stroked Mycroft’s cock a few times, rubbing his thumb around the head that was already leaking pre-come.   
“You’re gorgeous like this, Myc, fuck.” Greg’s voice was low and husky and he felt another surge of arousal go through his own body as he took Mycroft’s cock into his mouth.   
Greg could feel Mycroft’s fingers in his hair and he experimentally bobbed his head, feeling Mycroft pull his hair and curse above him. He took Mycroft as deep as he could manage without gagging and then trailed his tongue up the underside of the younger man’s cock and paid particular attention to the head, eliciting another moan from above him.   
Greg could feel his own cock throb with arousal, and Mycroft whimpered Greg’s name, tugging on his hair and Greg sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.   
“Okay?” He asked, slightly self-conscious.  
Mycroft answering smile glowed, making Greg’s heart skip. “Almost too good. I want you, I didn’t want to finish before that.” The blush reappeared across his cheeks and neck and Greg couldn’t help but move up to kiss Mycroft’s cheek, before picking up the bottle of lube. 

Greg popped the cap open and warmed the lube on his fingers before hetrailed his finger around Mycroft’s hole. Greg kissed Mycroft’s thigh lightly, before slipping the first finger past the tight ring of muscle.  
“Oh fuck.” He breathed in response to Mycroft moaning his name. He moved his finger slowly, listening to Mycroft’s reactions.   
“Please.” Mycroft whimpered, and Greg pulled his finger out, squeezing more lube onto his fingers before slipping two in, causing Mycroft to buck his hips.   
Greg’s own breathing was uneven, his heart thudding in his chest.   
He picked up his pace, and knew he had found Mycroft’s prostate once he heard Mycroft shout his name. So, he added a third finger and found that spot again and again.   
“I’m ready.” Mycroft said in between deep breaths, and Greg slowly pulled out of Mycroft, sitting back on his heels.  
“Lie down on your back.” Mycroft commanded, pulling himself up to a sitting position. He made eye contact with Greg, and Greg felt understanding flow over him, and just nodded wordlessly. 

The duvet was soft and warm against his back, and Mycroft smiled reassuringly at him and the arousal burned through his veins.He heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper and he momentarily stopped breathing when he felt Mycroft’s warm hand close around his leaking cock. Mycroft stroked him a few times and Greg gripped the bedcovers in an attempt to keep still. Mycroft rolled the condom onto his cock, stroking him again before coating his cock in lube.  
“Breathe, Gregory.” There was amusement in Mycroft’s voice, but Mycroft’s hand caressing his face was grounding and Greg did as he was told, though he felt as though his mind was clouded in lust.   
Mycroft moved over Greg, legs on either side of Greg. “Ready?” He whispered and Greg could only noddesperately.  
Mycroft lowered himself onto Greg’s cock slowly, pacing himself. Greg’s hands went to Mycroft’s hips and he let out a loud moan, Mycroft’s warmth and tightness overwhelming.   
“Myc,” Greg breathed once Mycroft was fully seated over him, “Fucking hell.”  
Mycroft’s answering smirk made Greg want to cry out. Mycroft leaned over him, bracing his hands on either side of Greg’s head. Mycroft began moving, and Greg could hear his own heart thud in his ears, his hands tightening on Mycroft’s hips. 

They began to set up a rhythm, Greg bucking his hips and Mycroft riding him. From the sounds that Mycroft was making, he knew that he was hitting Mycroft’s prostate, and Mycroft’s noises were driving Greg insane. The feeling was overwhelming but so fucking good. Greg could feel the arousal pool in the bottom of his stomach, his balls tightening and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 

Mycroft’s lips met his, and he was swept away in a passionate kiss. Their moans were muffled by the kiss and Greg felt the moment that Mycroft came between them, his warm come spreading across their stomachs, his muscles tightening around Greg’s cock and the sensation drove Greg over the edge and he held Mycroft still as he felt his orgasm pulse through him.  “Myc.” Greg whispered breathlessly, and he heard Mycroft chuckle as he pulled off Greg and collapsed onto the spot next to Greg, closing his eyes.   
Once Greg felt confident that his heart had returned to a somewhat normal pace, he sat up, shaking slightly. He slid himself off the bed and went into the bathroom where he removed the condom and threw it in the bin. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and he looked wrecked, he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.   
He had shagged Mycroft bloody Holmes, something he had thought about _a lot_ recently, and now it had happened in real life. He cleaned himself up and grabbed a facecloth, wetting it and returning to the bed, where Mycroft was half sitting, watching Greg with a satiated smile. Greg climbed back onto the bed, handing Mycroft the cloth, “Okay?”  
Mycroft chuckled, “Fantastic.” 

Cloth discarded, the both moved to get under the duvet. They turned on their sides, Greg gently caressing Mycroft’s face as Mycroft’s hand rested on Greg’s waist.   
“That was-“ Greg struggled for words, “incredible.”   
Mycroft beamed at him, and Greg felt his heart stutter, and unbelievably warm feeling spreading throughout his chest.   
Mycroft pulled Greg into a gentle kiss, smiling against each other’s lips. Greg felt ecstatic.  
“Goodnight, Gregory.” Mycroft murmured against his lips, both their eyelids heavy. “Sleep well.”   
“I will now.” Greg whispered, holding Mycroft close, words that could shake the ground beneath them on the tip of his tongue. Mycroft’s eyes were closed and Greg hesitated.   
“Myc?”  
“Hm?” Greg could tell Mycroft was already slipping into sleep.   
“I-“ He paused, “Will you play piano for me?”  
Mycroft’s closed-eye smile was breathtaking, and Greg wanted to kiss him again and again.   
“Tomorrow, certainly.” Mycroft murmured.   
Greg’s heart was racing again as he watched Mycroft fall asleep in the dim light. His own eyelids were heavy and he could feel sleep closing in, but he was made speechless by the warmth that was flowing through him. He had never felt this strongly.   
He couldn’t find his voice and he didn’t want to disturb the other man. But he mouthed the words, unseen and unheard, but certain.  
He would tell him tomorrow, after he listened to the composition in person and he took one last look at Mycroft’s peaceful features before closing his own eyes and letting sleep take him. 

**Author's Note:**

> 'Cheek to Cheek' has been in my Mystrade playlist for months and this took a very different direction than originally planned. 
> 
> If anyone needs to find me, my tumblr is [here](http://lostallsenseofcontrol.tumblr.com/).


End file.
